Hero Hack: Reversing Heroes and Raising Harem-Chapter 75: The Heir Who Broke the Chain

Razorwaltz exhaled slowly, resting her head back against the crate.

"First off," she muttered.

"My real name’s Velra Vantess. The only daughter of the Vantess family."

Zain raised his eyebrow. "I see."

She frowned. "No shock? No surprise?"

Zain shrugged.

"I’m from the C-Zone. We don’t exactly keep track of noble gossip out there."

Velra blinked.

"... You hail from C-Zone?"

Zain nodded without shame. "Yep."

Velra stared at him, jaw slightly slack.

"You mean to tell me... I got beaten down... by a damn commoner from C-Zone."

Zain’s smirk returned. "Is that your real trauma?"

Velra groaned, rubbing her face.

"Ugh, let’s just move on..."

She drew in a breath, voice quieter.

"Let me tell you about my family first."

She sat up straighter.

"The Vantess family is led by a female matriarch. Always has been."

"The daughters are trained to carry on the bloodline’s legacy."

Zain tilted his head.

"What’s the legacy? Cosmetics? Dresses? Fancy etiquette?"

Velra glared at him. "No."

"It’s darker."

Zain tapped his chin, pretending to guess.

"Killing? Robbing? Underground narcotics?"

She snapped. "Can you let me talk?"

Zain raised both hands. "Sorry, sorry. Proceed."

Velra huffed. "Our family is known for one thing."

She looked away.

"Slavery."

Zain blinked.

Velra continued, voice flat.

"We specialize in training female slaves."

"We refined, taught and shaped them before selling them off to high-class nobles."

Zain gave a slight nod. "I see."

Velra frowned. "Not even a raised eyebrow?"

Zain frowned right back.

"Hey. I’m being quiet, just like you asked."

"And also, you do know me by now, right?"

"Slaves, training, nobles—doesn’t mean much to me. I’ve seen worse."

Velra stared at him for a moment...

Then sighed again, quieter this time.

"...Fine."

"I’ll keep going."

Velra’s eyes narrowed, distant now, before continuing.

"...Being the only daughter meant I was the heir."

She leaned her head back against the crate, her voice colder.

"By the time I was ten, they were already teaching me the family trade."

Velra’s gaze drifted downward, unfocused.

Her voice turned low, almost like she was speaking to herself.

"I wasn’t taught to guide. I was taught to break."

She paused.

"They called it refinement. Training. Conditioning."

"But really... It was just dismantling people... slowly."

"One rule at a time. One command at a time."

She clenched her jaw.

"They taught me how to take someone who could fight..."

"And make them forget they ever wanted to."

Zain watched her silently, his expression unreadable.

Velra continued, bitter now.

"They’d bring in girls."

"Sometimes criminals, sometimes runaways, sometimes just ones bought from the lowest districts."

"They’d put them in front of me and say, ’Fix them.’"

She laughed once, cold and sharp.

"That meant erase them."

"I learned how to use fear that didn’t leave bruises."

"How to twist someone’s dignity into a leash."

"How to turn resistance into gratitude."

She looked at Zain straight in the eye.

"Do you know what it’s like to have a girl beg to stay in her cell?"

Her voice was sharp—measured.

"Not because she was locked in... but because she was too afraid of freedom?"

Zain didn’t respond.

He didn’t need to.

The weight of her words filled the silence.

Then Velra smirked—just slightly.

Her eyes gleamed with something between pride and madness.

"At first, it felt wrong."

Her fingers curled around her knee.

"But the more it happened... the more I felt it."

She inhaled through her teeth.

"That twisted relief in their eyes. That trembling submission. It made me feel..."

She paused, eyes narrowing in quiet satisfaction.

"Alive."

Zain’s brow furrowed.

"So that’s it," he said quietly.

"That’s why you’re sadistic."

Velra nodded without hesitation.

"Yeah."

Her smirk widened.

"I liked watching them fall apart."

"And I liked it even more when they thanked me for it."

Zain stared at her in silence.

His eyes narrowed—not in fear, but realization.

"...You said this like a tragedy at first," he muttered.

"But you weren’t suffering."

Velra tilted her head, almost amused.

"You thought I was some poor daughter raised in chains?"

Zain’s tone sharpened.

"Then why did you kill your parents?"

Velra leaned forward slightly, eyes darkening with something colder.

"Jealousy."

Zain frowned. "Jealousy?"

She nodded. "They didn’t like that I surpassed them."

"My technique, my control—it was cleaner. Sharper. More effective."

"They saw it as a threat. I was the heir, but I hadn’t inherited the seat yet."

"That made me... replaceable."

Zain’s voice dropped.

"You’re saying they tried to—what, replace you?"

Velra gave a quiet laugh.

"They thought they could just create another."

"Breed a new heir and toss me aside."

Her expression twisted.

"One night, they acted. Told the guards to seize me like some defective doll."

"I was bound, sealed, locked in the coldest chamber of the estate."

"They even brought in their most loyal handler to ’correct’ me."

Her voice grew flat.

"I was treated like a product."

Zain didn’t speak.

Velra didn’t look at him.

"But what they didn’t realize... was that I’d spent years studying them."

"Their routines. Their traps. Their blind spots."

"I already knew how the cage worked... because I helped build it."

She smiled again, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

"I waited. I endured. And when the handler slipped. Just once. I slipped the collar."

Zain’s brows raised slightly.

Velra continued, calm now.

"I went straight for the vault room. That’s where I stashed the explosives."

"I’d planted the explosives little by little over the years."

"A hallway here. A chamber there."

"Even the servant quarters had explosives hidden in the walls."

Zain tilted his head.

"You planned this since you were a kid?"

Velra nodded.

"Since I was old enough to be called ’heir.’"

"I understood what kind of family I was born into."

"And I knew one day, they’d turn on me."

"Because control was more important to them than blood."

Zain’s voice dropped, low and curious.

"And you used your own inheritance... to fund your escape plan."

Velra gave a cold grin. "Every credit spent wisely."

"And just like I predicted... they did betray me."

"The moment I saw the guards marching toward my room, I knew."

"So I slipped my cuffs, triggered every explosive, and walked out."

"While the rest of the estate died in flames behind me."

Zain whistled softly.

"So that was the end of the Vantess line."

Velra’s eyes gleamed.

"In one night."

"Years of legacy were erased."

Zain crossed his arms.

"...And here I thought I was the only one who rewrote their story in blood."

Velra looked at him sideways, smirking.

"Well, maybe that’s why we’re still talking."